


Not Over It

by Mr_Mumbles



Series: Dan VS... [1]
Category: Dan Vs.
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Mumbles/pseuds/Mr_Mumbles
Summary: Dan's least favorite stalker is back! Or is he?
Relationships: Chris / Dan (one sided most likely ), Chris Pearson/Elise Pearson
Series: Dan VS... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653220
Comments: 21
Kudos: 51





	1. Dan VS. Nightmares

Dan hated the carnival. The food gave him gas, the rides made him sick, and the hordes of meandering, braindead masses milling around filled him with a desire to set the entire thing on fire. Thoughts of these delightfully warm, soothing flames danced around in his mind as he watched them now, an endless sea of faceless carnival goers. Their idle mutterings, chitchat, it all ran in together, mingling with that abhorrent carnival music, forming a cacophony of misery.

"Dan? Hey Dan, there you are!"

Ah, Chris. It was Chris' voice that broke through Dan's quickly rising rage levels. It was a good thing, too, because he'd been just about to start throwing things. Despite his relief, Dan spun around to yell at his friend just the same.

"And _where_ have **you** been? I've been waiting here for hours!" Dan faltered, his expression turning from stern anger to one of blank confusion as his eyes darted around. "At least I imagine so." He added with a lazy shrug. It only now occurred to Dan he couldn't remember how he'd gotten here or why he was here at all. Didn't Dan hate carnivals? Yeah, he did! In fact, he--

This train of thought was cut abruptly short when Chris grabbed his hand and began dragging him through the crowd. Dan made a weak attempt at struggling, more out of pride than an actual desire to break away.

"Hey, watch it! Where are you taking me? Stop pulling!"

And Chris did stop, but not because Dan had asked him to. They'd reached their destination.

"Ta-da! What do you think?" Chris asked, gesturing to the looming building that lay in front of them. Dan stared up at it. It was huge, overwhelming, it seemed to blot out the sun. Hokey wooden hearts adorned the entirety of it, a few swans and a bloated baby with wings and a bow and arrow adorned the thing's entrance. Little swan boats rocked back and forth slightly on the water in front, jostled by a breeze that Dan couldn't feel.

Dan pushed down this rising dread, this feeling of nervous déjà vu, by scoffing and turning away, arms crossed over his chest.

"That's ridiculous. I'm not going on the Tunnel of Love with you, Chris, don't make this weird."

"It isn't _weird_ , Dan!" Chris whined from behind him. "I just really love those little dancing hearts, oh, and the little song they sing!"

"He does, he really does." Huh? That had been Elise. Elise was here, too. Fantastic. Dan rolled his eyes and turned to face her.

"Then how about you take up your wifely duties, and take your husband on--" Dan stared dumbly. Elise wasn't there, only Chris smiling and waving amiably at him. "Huh? Where did...?" Dan spun around again to search in the opposite direction now, still no Elise. Only the crowd of faceless people, their mutterings and occasional laughter now gone, as if someone had pushed the mute button. Dan was so befuddled by all of this, he didn't bother struggling when his wrist was grabbed again, and he was dragged into the little swan boat, strapped in beside his friend.

"Okay, fine, but if you kiss me, I'll smack you." Dan mumbled.

"I'm not going to kiss you." Chris replied, tone annoyed, and Dan could tell he'd rolled his eyes without having to see it.

"We'll see."

"What's that supposed to mean!"

But Dan didn't get to respond, as the boat hitched, and the ride began. They glided into the dark tunnel, flashes of bright pinks and reds, no music at all despite Chris only earlier mentioning it. Everything was a nonsensical blur now, were they even on a boat anymore? The familiar, but half-numbed sensation of being held in the darkness, lips pressed against his own, fingers slipping through his hair, and a creeping, lingering dread under this all encompassing sensation of vulnerable passion.

This ended badly. This always ended badly. How could this possibly end badly?

His fears and rising anxiety came to a crescendo when he felt lips and warm breath against his ear, the words that slipped out of them freezing his blood.

_"I'm going to gut you while you sleep."_

Dan gasped and recoiled, and saw with horror it was Elise sitting beside him now in the blackness, smiling at him sweetly. Expression never changing, she pulled back a fist, and just before it made contact with his face, Dan woke up screaming, sitting bolt upright in his bed.

Dan gasped and panted as he waited for his heart to slow. It finally began to when Mr. Mumbles jumped up onto the bed and curled up in his lap.

"Meow?"

"Yes, Mr. Mumbles. I had the nightmare again." Dan replied, tiredly, absentmindedly stroking her head.

"Mrow?" The cat questioned, hopping off his lap and on to the floor, looking up at him expectantly. Dan only stared back in shock, mouth hanging slightly agape at what he'd perceived she'd just said. How dare she call him out like this! In his own home! The nerve! This look of surprise crumpled into an annoyed scowl and he swung his feet over the side of the bed.

"That's it, no more Dr. Phil for you, Mr. Mumbles." The cat mew'd back at him, sadly, wondering if he'd finally feed her now. It was breakfast time, and that meant eat. What Mr. Mumbles either didn't notice or assigned no importance to, however, while she happily rubbed up against his legs as he made his way to the kitchen, were the dark circles that had formed under his eyes. Dan's nights had been plagued by this same nightmare for weeks now, and sleep had been restless when he'd managed to find it at all. There were occasionally slight variations, but the ending was always the same. And these dreams had only joined the myriad of other, anxiety-induced and not Chris-related nightmares he'd suffered from since he was nine, instead of replacing them. Dan was tired. So very tired.

Reaching into the cupboard, he pulled out a can of cat food. He squinted at the label, his vision momentarily blurry from the sleep deprivation. Yup, this was cat food. He went to work opening the can with the can opener, while Mr. Mumbles meowed at him impatiently. Half way through the can slipped from his slightly shaking hand, the can landing squarely on his foot. He let out a short, angry scream, and the can bounced away, the cat chasing after it, eagerly. Dan watched Mr. Mumbles happily eat the spilled food from the floor while he stood there, raised and sore foot in one hand. Fine, whatever, that works too.

On his way to the stove, he tripped over a pair of discarded pants, stumbling and then falling, face planting into the dirty carpet. His cleaning habits had gotten even more deplorable since he'd been losing sleep. Dan used this opportunity to scream his grievances into the rug before climbing back to his feet. Now everything hurt. Everything was terrible.

Except bacon, bacon was still okay. Soon it was sizzling away in the pan on the stove, its aroma wafting across his tired senses, providing much needed comfort. Even the sound of it was calming somehow, the warmth from the stove even more so. Slowly, Dan's eyelids began to grow heavy. Blink. Blink. So heavy. Soon he was asleep standing there, but only for a moment, as his body lost tension and he collapsed, his hand hitting the frying pan handle on his way down. It wasn't hitting the floor that woke Dan, but the pan of searing hot oil and meat landing on the back of his head.

His rage had by now reached its boiling point, he was wide awake for perhaps the first time in days, and he pushed himself up onto his knees. He grabbed the pan, screamed at it wordlessly, and hurled it across the room. Next he threw his head back and roared at his ceiling.

_**"NIGHTMAAAARES!"** _


	2. Dan VS. Honesty

“You can’t get revenge on your nightmares, Dan…” Chris argued through a mouthful of burger.

“No, **you** can’t get revenge on your nightmares. I, on the other hand, happen to know a guy. A girl. Woman?”

“Oh no, you’re not talking about Madame Zelda, are you? She filed a restraining order against you after last time, remember?”

“I seem to vaguely recall some sort of trivial altercation–” Dan replied with a shrug, twirling around a french-fry before eating it. The two sat at their usual table at Burgerphile, enjoying lunch before starting the day's plans. Chris was always more compliant with a full stomach. 

“You nearly burned down her store!" Chris stressed, and then added with a half-shrug, "And _three_ of the surrounding buildings.” Chris held up three fingers for emphasis.

“But as I was _**saying**_ , this is an _**emergency**_ …I’m sure she’ll understand and make an exception.”

Conversation dropped off here, and both seemed perfectly fine with that, Chris busying himself with finishing his meal, Dan sipping on his drink while he glared out the window beside them. Chris couldn't tell if he was glaring at the passing traffic, or just having an angry staring contest with his own reflection.

"By the way …" Chris spoke up again, through another mouthful of food. He swallowed before continuing. "I've been meaning to ask, what _have_ you been having nightmares about, anyway?"

Chris watched as Dan's angry scowl melted away into a look of nervous surprise. That wide-eyed look Dan often got that transformed him from the grumpy thirty-something-year-old man he was, into a child attempting to feign innocence after breaking the neighbor's window. Dan was facing him now, but he wasn't _looking_ at him, his eyes darting around the restaurant, everywhere but at Chris. Dan's fingers drummed nervously on the tabletop. 

"It's uhh, nothing. Just, you know, the usual."

"The usual? And what's that? You've never told me about your nightmares before."

And just like that, the hateful, scowling man was back, Dan glared at Chris from across the table, baring his teeth as he yelled.

"Stop _**hounding**_ me already, sheesh! There's a _reason_ I don't tell you about my nightmares, Chris. You couldn't handle them. You'd be all," Dan's tone changed here, to a higher pitched whine of mockery. "ohh Dan, stop it, you're _scaring_ me. Dan! You're so messed up, you should be going to therapy."

Chris frowned and glared at Dan. "That sounds nothing like me! You're just being mean again."

" _You're just nehnehneh-nehneh._ " Dan continued to mock, this time bringing a hand up to mouth the words like a sockless sock puppet. "Just be quiet and hurry up, I wanna be home before Mr. Mumbles' soaps come on. She has trouble turning on the television by herself with her tiny paws."

Chris sighed, but happily dropped the subject, and went back to the best thing in his life; food. 

Fifteen minutes later, Chris and Dan were walking down the sidewalk, toward Madame Zelda's shop. Dan wasn't sure what caused him to glance up and across the street, but what he saw there dropped a heavy ball of lead straight into his gut. Amongst the various passing pedestrians, stood an all too familiar face. Dan stared in dreadful disbelief at his clone, his doppelganger, that impostor creep who had stolen his identity and then drove him to the brink of madness. He was just, standing there, grinning and waving at him, like he was some long lost pal.

And that was when Dan walked straight into the street lamp pole. What he'd seen was instantly forgotten as he stumbled back, holding his now sore face. " _ **You!**_ " He growled, pointing an accusatory finger at it. He whipped out his trusty list from his back pocket and scrawled the word "Light poles" right under the word "birds" and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"You'll get yours." Dan muttered to it.

"You're swearing revenge on light poles now, Dan? Really?" Chris shook his head, sadly.

“They’re a safety hazard, Chris. Keep up your snarky remarks and you’ll be going back **on** the list.”

“Aw, you took me off the list? How generous.”

“You’ve been a very obedient stooge, you’ve earned it.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

Conversation dropped off again as the two continued on toward the shop. Dan, hesitantly, glanced back over to the other side of the street, but the other man was nowhere to be seen.


	3. Dan VS. the Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone even reading this thing?

It was amazing how persuasive money could be. In this case, it was amazing how persuasive Chris' money could be. While Madame Zelda hadn't been pleased in the slightest to see either of them, she'd been satisfied enough when Chris offered to buy something, anything, if she'd tell Dan it would help with his nightmares. Did Chris believe she had anything that could help his friend? Not in the slightest. Did he believe in the placebo effect? Eh, it was worth a try.

An hour later, Dan was home, massaging the contents from an unlabeled bottle she'd called "herbal nightmare repellent" into his hair. His teeth grit from the cold shower; a hot one would have just caused him to fall asleep in the stall. Again.

"You'd better work..." He grumbled, barely audible even to himself through the sound of pelting water. A moment later, he was stepping out, drying his face off with a towel before wrapping it around his waist. Strange, and suspicious, he didn't _feel_ any different. Approaching the mirror to retrieve his only comb, his eyes shot open wide and he gasped, stumbling back when he saw that the face in the mirror wasn't his. Chris stood there, smiling at him. Dan stared in a state of horrified confusion as the image of his best friend opened its mouth. Much like Elise in his nightmare had done, it spilled forth horrible words without changing its cheerful expression.

"I never liked you at all, and I hope this sleep deprivation thing kills you." It wasn't what it said that was so awful, Dan had heard worse, it was _how_ it was said. So casual, as if he were commenting on the weather. Hurt, as it often did with Dan, quickly boiled into rage.

" _ **Oh yeah!**_ " He screamed at the mirror, absentmindedly rubbing his arm against his tired eyes. "Well I never **once** \-- uh?" Dan blinked and then squinted at the mirror. It was his face again. … Oh. No, no it wasn't. Something was _wrong_. It was smiling. That smile that was his and yet not, so infuriatingly not, his impostor grinned at him from his own bathroom mirror.

"Hi Dan. Boo!" And then that laugh, that smug, half-mad chuckle that Dan had not been able to forget, short and yet seemed to linger on forever, echoing off the bathroom tile and through his head.

Dan, finding he'd backed himself into the far wall, shut his eyes tightly against the unwanted hallucination until the sound had finally stopped. When they'd opened again, his eyes shot over to glare at the unassuming bottle sitting on the shower stall shelf where he'd left it. He stomped over and grabbed it now, shouting at it.

" _ **USELESS!**_ " And with the burning rage of a thousand suns, Dan hurled the thing at his bathroom mirror, assigning just as much blame for his misery to it as he had to the junk Madame Zelda had sold him. Being plastic, however, the bottle only bounced off the glass, smacking Dan in the face before rolling off into the corner.

" _ **OW!**_ " A hand shot up to cover his wounded eye. He dared face the mirror again, only partially relieved to see his own, scowling mug there this time. He lowered his hand and assessed the damage. Yup, that was going to bruise.

"Great..." At least it would match the dark bags under his eyes, he mused darkly to himself. Dan left the bathroom without even bothering to get dressed, instead marching straight over to the phone on his bedside table, angrily dialing Chris' number. He didn't even wait for Chris to say anything, only to hear the click of it being picked up.

"Chris! We need to go back to Madame Zelda's place, that junk she sold us didn't work."

Frustration began to fizzle out into unease as the silence on the other end spun out, the slight phone static chipping away at his frazzled nerves.

" _Uh, hello?_ _ **Chris!**_ "

"Dan? Have you considered, oh I don't know, seeing a therapist about this? Recurring nightmares to this degree are almost always linked to some serious stuff you really shouldn't ignore."

Not Chris, but perhaps the first time ever that Dan could recall feeling relieved to hear Elise's voice.

"He _told_ you about that?" Dan questioned, sounding more hurt and concerned than he'd intended.

"He tells me everything, Dan. I'm his wife."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Dan chewed on his bottom lip, eyes nervously shifting to the corner as he tried to recall any embarrassing or incriminating secrets he'd let slip around Chris and were now known by the enemy. Realizing he'd gotten distracted, he shook his head to clear his thoughts before replying.

"Whatever, that's a chat he and I will be having later. Speaking of he, put Chris on, I need to talk to him and I have nothing to say to you, _good day._ "

"Sorry, he's busy. So Dan, these nightmares, are they school class picture day in your underwear scary, or more like being chased by a pack of rabid chipmunks scary?"

Dan could hear the smug, mocking smile in her tone and a part of him hated her for it. He pulled the phone away from his ear to glare down at it.

"Don't **think** I won't come over there and get him myself! _**I KNOW WHERE HE LIVES!**_ "

He punctuated his words by slamming the phone back down, cutting the connection. He stomped back out into the living room, and was greeted by Mr. Mumbles, who was laying on the couch, looking at him with those big eyes of hers. She rolled over onto her side when she saw him.

"Mr. Mumbles, look after things while I'm out, I'm going over to see Chris."

"Mrow?"

"Yes, I'll be putting pants on first!" He rolled his eyes and turned to return to the bathroom where he'd left his clothes. "You're awfully _judgmental_ for someone who spends all day in the nude, you know."

The cat watched as he left, but her attention was pulled away when the overhead light dimmed and brightened, making an electrical, crackling sound. Mr. Mumbles hopped down from the couch, and trotted over to sit under it, looking up at it as she began to purr.


	4. Dan VS. the Radio

Dan climbed into his car and shut the door, sighing contentedly. He’d been through a lot with this old car, it had become a place of comfort in a way. Soon he was on his way to Chris and Elise’s place, music from the radio doing wonders in calming his nerves.

Until a realization hit him, and caused the ball of lead in his gut to return.

“Wait a minute ...” His tired eyes momentarily strayed from the road to glance nervously down at the radio. “my car radio hasn’t worked in _years_!”

As if in reply, the music instantly cut out into static so loud and sudden it caused Dan to yelp and swerve, nearly plowing into an oncoming truck. The car skidded, and fishtailed, and then spun completely around as Dan attempted to get it back on track, until finally sliding to a halt on the side of the road.

He reached out to turn the radio off, but just before his hand got there, the static cut out abruptly as it had begun, casting him deafening silence. He couldn’t even hear the passing cars outside, but he barely registered this as off, too transfixed by the now silent radio.

He flinched when Chris because to talk to him through it, his voice mildly distorted by crackling static.

“Me and Elise would be _so_ much better off without you around.”

“Shut _**up**_ , Chris!” Dan shouted at his radio, baring his teeth at it and shutting it off. Or attempting to, he paled when the faint static continued and the nob snapped off into his hand. He stared dumbly at the part laying in his upturned palm.

“He’s right, you know, _everyone_ would be better off with you gone, don’t you _think_ , Dan?” The other Dan this time.

“ _ **You**_!” Dan growled back, reaching over to change the station. The static only rose in volume for a moment, lowering again only to morph into that horrible chuckle he’d grown to despise.

“Oh, no, wait, no you don’t think that at all do you? Because Dan only ever thinks about himself. Am I right? I’m right aren’t I? Come ooon, you can say it.”

Dan only growled wordlessly this time, angrily turning the dial to change the station again. Click.

“Nope, sorry! I’m on this one, too. But hey! Since I’m here, can I just say? _Love_ this new smokey eye look you have going, it suits you, no, it really does.”

Click. Another station, growing frustration and unease.

“Boo! Me again! Ahaha!”

Click.

“Daaaan come on, this is getting old.”

Click.

“Your friends like me more. Everyone does! I’m just the superior Dan! Don’t you think you”

 _Click_ “Should.” _Click_ “Just.” _Click.click_ . “Let me ta” _Click_

“ ** _TAKE YOUR PLACE!_** ”

The voice had distorted to the point of sounding demonic, and Dan scrambled to open his door, tumbling out onto the side of the road. Mad laughter spilled out of the car’s speakers even as he got to his feet and began to run.

____

"He's here! He's back!"

" _Who's_ back, Dan?" Chris asked, tired weariness evident in his voice. He and Elise had been sitting on the couch when he’d burst through their door, panting and sweaty like he’d just run a marathon while being chased by dogs.

"My doppelganger! The telemarketer! Knockoff Dan, _that **jerk** who stole my identity!_"

Dan didn't miss the look Chris and Elise shared, as if he wasn't standing right there. Chris looked concerned, Elise just looked annoyed. They didn't believe him, did they? At least they finally stood from the couch.

"Don't look at me like that! I have _undeniable proof!_ He _**tampered**_ with my _**car radio**_!"

"Nobody _tampered_ with your car, Dan …" Elise shut her eyes, massaging in between her eyes as if nursing a budding headache. "Visual and auditory hallucinations are _common symptoms_ of sleep deprivation."

"I **know** that! Look, don't you think it's weird _in the slightest_ how I'd just _suddenly start seeing him everywhere_ after all this time? I saw him on the street earlier today, and then again in my bathroom mirror. He was talking to me through my car’s radio! And I've been hearing his voice again! Check my teeth, I'll **bet** you find another transmitter in there!"

Elise had to quickly back up as Dan came at her with his mouth hanging open, as if he expected her to check him right then and there. She placed a hand on his forehead to push him back.

"I'm not going anywhere near that bear trap of yours while you're still conscious, I've watched you gnaw through solid metal chains somehow."

"Actually, Dan …" Both Elise and Dan turned to face Chris, who was nervously scratching the back of his neck. "Elise is right. Dan -- the other Dan, I mean, isn't anywhere _near_ here. He's living three-thousand miles away in Florida with his new dog. In fact, he just updated his InstaSnap this morning, see?"

Chris held up his phone so Dan could see the picture of his impostor, smiling as he held up a large fish he'd presumably just caught. Dan frowned and took the phone from Chris, scrolling through countless photos of the Other Him living the good life. Pictures on the beach, playing frisbee with a fluffy yellow dog, pictures of him laughing while surrounded by friends. He looked ... happy.

"First of all, Chris, Florida is only about two-point-seven thousand miles away. Second of all, you **friended** the guy who tried to _**replace**_ me, tried to drive me _**insane**_? Ouch, Chris. I'm wounded. You've wounded me."

"It's not _like_ that!" Chris insisted, eyes suddenly darting away as he shrugged. "I friend back _everyone_ who friends me..." and then in a lower, mumbling tone he added, " out of a perfectly healthy level of guilty obligation."

"Alright, let's get this over with."

Dan and Chris turned to see Elise walk back into the room, both realizing they hadn't noticed her leave in the first place. She held an unfamiliar device that resembled a television-remote-sized, black baseball bat. Dan instinctively took a few steps back, his eyes glued to it, warily.

"She's getting violent again, Chris, stop her..."

"This isn't a weapon, but then again, I wouldn't need one to take you out. Think of this as a uh … a fancy metal detector. It'll detect any transmitter or otherwise electrical devices hidden anywhere on or inside your person. Now, stand perfectly still."

Dan did as he was told for once, standing still as she waved the device an inch from him, from top to bottom. He wore a worried expression as she did so. " _Inside my person?_ " He whimpered, not sure he liked what that implied. The crackling, whining noise the machine made wasn't making him feel any better, either.

"Hm … I'll admit this _is_ a little strange … Dan, have you been electrocuted?" Elise asked, looking over the screen on the device.

"Well, not _recently_. Why do you ask?"

"This thing didn't find any transmitters, but it **does** say you’re emitting an unusually strong electrical current."

“Which means ...?”

“I have no idea.” Elise shrugged and tucked the device back into its case. “Oh but I’m sure it’s nothing! It _would_ explain why it messed with your car radio, though. It probably scrambled the signal, and you hallucinated the rest.”

“I am not ... hallucinating.” Oh, wow, that had not come out nearly as forcibly as he’d intended. The overexertion had finally caught up with Dan, and he suddenly felt dizzy, weak, exhausted.

“I’m, tired. Not crazy.” He swayed on his feet.

“Debatable ...” Elise muttered, crossing her arms. Chris took a step toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Dan, maybe you should lie down or something, you don’t look so good.”

“ _ **Don’t**_! You tell me what to do. I’m perfectly.”

Chris just barely managed to catch him as he collapsed.


	5. Dan VS His Own Subconscious

Sleep was a relief to Dan’s exhausted mind and body, but the darkness he found himself in now was far from comforting. This all-encompassing void pressed in all around him, suffocating him as if it were made of dread, of panic and anxiety. Dan attempted to struggle against it, but found he was unable to move, unable to stop it from crushing him, burying him alive within its horrible nothingness.

And then all at once that, too, was gone, and Dan was only aware he was falling. Slowly at first, and then he was plummeting downward. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness and paralyses was broken when he landed in a sitting position, the thunderous sound of splashing water being the first sound to permeate this hellscape thus far, deafening against the shattered silence.

Dan found he could breathe again, could move. The air was still heavy, however, as he squinted against the darkness, and he struggled to pull it into his lungs. This place was familiar. A place he’d been before, but it was different this time.

_This ends badly this always ends badly_

The creeping dread turned to ice in his veins as he realized he was back in that accursed tunnel of love. But the boat wasn’t moving forward now, the lights were not on, there were no singing hearts, the place itself exuded the very idea of death itself. Although he loathed to do so, Dan hesitantly glanced over to the seat beside him, and gasped when he saw ... nothing. He was alone.

“Aw Dan, haven’t you always been alone, though?”

Dan knew that voice, he wanted to be angry. Instead he pulled his knees up to his chest, curling up into a ball, something he hadn’t done since he was a child.

“Oh that’s right! Not even your parents wanted anything to do with poor little Danny. Did they?”

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, its words clutching Dan’s icy heart and squeezing.

“But Uncle Carl, oh! Oh now **he** haha! He loved you, didn’t he? A little too much maybe but aw, is there really such a thing as too much love! Huh!”

Dan was vaguely aware he was crying now, but Dan wasn’t Dan , he was elsewhere now, a place he didn’t want to revisit ever again. He was five again and nothing would ever be okay ever again. He shut his eyes tightly and in a flash he was back on that boat, still huddled into a tiny ball, still openly weeping.

“How do you do it, Dan? How do you live knowing there is no one in this world who likes you in the slightest?”

Dan uncurled himself and sat up. The voice was no longer coming from everywhere, it had lost its foreboding echo. Tears continued to stream down Dan’s face as he squinted though the darkness, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from now.

“Even your so-called best friend only sticks around out of an overwhelming sense of obligation, I know that, you haha! Well you _certainly_ know that. -- Tell me, do you know where you are right now, Dan?”

“I’m, uh.” Dan wasn’t sure why he was humoring this impostor, but he was surprised to find he could speak at all. “in some kind of nightmarish dream sequence, I would assume.” Dan replied, simply, giving a noncommittal half-shrug. The chuckle he was rewarded with caused him frown to deepen.

“No, no, no-- well, yes, technically, but this! Oh this is so much more than that. This is your subconscious! Well, I suppose all dreams take place in your subconscious, but this is specifically _a physical representation of your subconscious as a whole._ Neat, huh?”

Dan’s eyes darted around briefly, but he didn’t verbally reply to that. If this was really his subconscious, there were bound to be monsters lurking nearby.

“Take a peak into the water. Go oooon, you know you want to.”

Dan _**didn’t**_ want to, in fact, but he found himself doing so anyway, inching his way over to hook his fingers over the side of the boat, and reluctantly peeking over the side into the black water below.

Static-ridden memories drifted along down there, countless repressed pieces of Dan’s past. Dan’s brows furrowed in frustrated confusion.

“But I never forgot **any** of these memories. I’ve retold most of these stories a countless number of times to various therapists I’ve been forced to go to over the years.”

“Oh, but it wasn’t the traumatic events themselves you repressed, Dan! No, no, nothing bothers you _these_ days, no, of course not! You’re strong, you’re ... numb. Desensitized. And it’s all so easy once you learn to repress the way these things made you feel. Detach your emotions from the actions, isn’t that right? Do you see that roiling, twisted sea of void down there? Yeah, you see it. But do you know what it is?”

Dan paused to contemplate this, and then gave another halfhearted shrug.

“My, seething, unadulterated hatred and anger?”

He received more than just a chuckle for that one, a full, hearty guffaw.

“Oh, Dan! You, are hilarious, you know that, I love that about you I really do! Oh! But no. Hatred and anger are two emotions you don’t filter or repress at all! No, that ... is every other emotion you’ve shoved down here to rot and fester over the years. Sadness, self-doubt, empathy, guilt, shame, oh, and here comes my favorite!”

Dan glanced back over the side to see a replay of how this dream normally went, with him lip-locked with his best friend. Dan quickly averted his eyes elsewhere.

“Oh-ho that, is embarrassing.”

Dan yelped and recoiled, as his impostor was suddenly beside him, elbows resting lazily on the edge of the boat as he peered over the side, watching the memories float by with him. The doppelganger’s half lidded gaze and easy smile quickly morphed into a scowl as he sat up, somehow towering over Dan, and roughly grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him closer until their faces were inches apart.

“You know, it’s been fun, exploring the deep depths of your depravity, Dan, it really has! But now I’m bored. I want out, and I think...”

Dan was shoved backwards then, a hand suddenly around his throat at the thing tried pushing him back into the hungry abyss. Dan fought back, panic overtaking him as he began to suffocate all over again, struggling to grab onto the boat, fingers clawing at the monster above him.

“ It might do you some good to _**feel**_ a little something for a change!”

The crashing thunder outside, mercifully, awoke Dan then, and he sat up screaming yet again. Choking and gasping for air, Dan’s eyes darted around his surroundings feverishly. The familiar setting of his bedroom was mildly comforting. He breathing slowed, but he reached up to brush his fingers against where the hand had been clamped around his neck only moments before, without even realizing it.

“Meow?” And here was another comfort. Dan smiled weakly down at the small cat in his lap, stroking her head and back.

“Mr. Mumbles, thank goodness it’s you. I just had the worst dream yet! I- ...” the smile vanished now, his eyebrows furrowing as he remembered his situation. How had he gotten here? Chris must have brought him back here after he blacked out.

“They don’t believe me. Looks like it’s just you and me, Mr. Mumbles. You and me against the ... whatever this is.”

The silence spun out before he added softly, tiredly,

“Maybe I really am ...” Dan didn’t want to finish that sentence. And he didn’t have to. Mr. Mumbles looked up at him with her big green eyes, cocked her head cutely to the side, and opened her mouth.

“Crazy?” she finished, in the voice of a small child. Dan sat staring at her, mouth agape.

“Mr. Mumbles! Since when can you--”

“Mrow?” Dan turned his attention to his cat, sitting in the middle of the room ,watching him, curiously. Dan struggled to swallow the lump in his throat as he slowly turned back to face the impostor cat in his lap.

Except it wasn’t a cat anymore. It was, however, still an impostor. A crack of lighting through his bedroom window illuminated a face from his nightmares, cool blue eyes fixed onto his own.

“Boo. Miss me?”

“ _ **Oh come on**_!” Dan shouted, pushing himself back against his headboard to try and distance himself from the other man in his bed. “I’m still _**dreaming**_?!”

"Oh, this isn't a dream. I promise you..." The monster from his nightmare was in his face again, straddling him uncomfortably, a hand planted against the headboard on either side of him. " _this is so very, very real_."

And Dan believed this completely, as unlike while still trapped inside his dream space, now he could _smell_ him. The breath that wafted from this thing's mouth was putrid, stagnant, not unlike the smell of the ham that had been left in the back of his refrigerator for the past five months. Dan gagged, sputtered, and tried his best to turn his head away. His stomach lurched and he gagged again, hand shooting out to push against the impostor's face.

" _Uhhg! Gross!_ **Brush** once in awhile, would you! Sheesh!"

The pushing afforded Dan the time and the space to slip out from under him, sliding onto the floor and scurrying to his feet, grabbing Mr. Mumbles as he ran for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops.


	6. Dan VS The Storm

The lights in the living room buzzed to life brightly as Dan ran for the front door, and blew with a loud popping sound once he'd reached it. An angry wailing rose up to follow it, and Dan was surprised to find the door offered no resistance as he flung it open. Sheets of driving rain met him on the other side of it, but the threat of what sounded like an oncoming freight train inside his apartment caused him to dash out into it without a second thought. He slammed the door closed behind him, and turned to run for the stairs.

"He's **real** , Mr. Mumbles! I'm not crazy!"

This mild victory was cut short when he was blinded by a sudden bolt of lightning, striking down so close in front of him he could feel the air vibrating. He stumbled back in time to hear, rather than see, half the landing crumbling to the ground, taking the stairs with it. He whipped around to see his door slam open, and wasted no time leaping over the railing, tucking his cat against himself to protect her from the impact.

Luckily for both of them, the dumpster was where Dan had always known it to be, and provided them with a soft, albeit unsanitary, landing. Climbing out of it was just as familiar to him as falling into it was, and Mr. Mumbles hopped out after him. The first thing he noticed was his car wasn't here. Of course it wasn't, he'd left it at Chris' place. Great.

"Are you really trying to run from me, Dan?" Dan gasped, the impostor's silhouette, dark as pitch, framed against the dark sky above, peering down at him from over the railing. A flash of lightning illuminated his grin for a split second, the sound of the thunder causing Mr. Mumbles to scream and leap back into Dan's arms. Run. Yes, that had been the plan. Dan turned to flee.

" _I toooold you..._ " The voice sang from behind him as he ran. "I know everything about you. I **was** you."

Dan's shoes slapped against the wet sidewalk as he ran, the voice never far behind, seeming to meld with and be amplified by the thunder and rain instead of being drowned out by it. He skidded to a halt when his pursuer stepped out from around the corner calmly, blocking his path, and shaking his head slowly in disapproval.

"You can't hide from yourself, Dan, you know that …"

" _ **Leave me alone!**_ " Dan shouted over the rain, even as he was already turning to run across the street to escape.

_But you are alone, Dan._

That one had been whispered right into his ear, and he cried out, waving one arm around wildly to swipe at the air, ducking into a branching alleyway in his panic. An alleyway that terminated at a dead end.

"Oh no..." Dan whined. "Why me?" The ominous laughter from behind him had Dan scurrying to the dumpster that sat against the brick wall, as he struggled in vain to open it before noticing the padlock and chain holding the lid shut. There wasn't time to gnaw it open. So Dan did the only thing he could do, he climbed on top of it, and tried reaching for the rooftop. It was too high. But maybe …

Dan lifted Mr. Mumbles up as high as he could, and she made the jump easily, climbing up onto the rooftop and peeking back over the edge, meowing as if to tell Dan it was his turn. And try he did, bracing himself before jumping as high as he could with a grunt of effort.

He missed by a mile, his feet slipping out from under him as he landed, the rain-slicked metal dumpster lid providing no purchase as he fell, slamming his chin against it as he did. Nails dug at the lid uselessly as he slid the rest of the way off, landing on the ground, staring up at the tumultuous sky. 

"Go, Mr. Mumbles! Get help!" He called up at his little companion, sitting up despite the ache that permeated his entire being. "Find Chris! My fate rests in your furry paws!" 

The cat disappeared over the lip of the building, and Dan could do nothing but hope she didn't get lost or distracted along the way.

"Hoping your knight in shining armor will show up and rescue his little princess, that is just! Hm. Adorable isn't the word I'm looking for, now what was it?"

Dan craned around to see his doppelganger at the entrance to the alleyway, making his way toward him at an agonizingly slow pace. So infuriatingly casual, like a cat playing with its cornered food.

"Sad? Was sad the word I was looking for? Welp, it'll do!"

"What do you **_want_** from me?" Dan spat, standing and shivering against the cold. Dan was drenched head to toe by now, but as his impostor neared, he could see he didn't appear to have been touched by the rain at all.

Perhaps he really was just a hallucination, in the end.

"What do I want? Let me see. Your life, for starters. Your friends … I want your body, Dan." A look of surprise briefly flashed across his double's face before he chuckled. "Oh, ah-haha! I imagine it's been a long time since you've heard anyone say **that** , eh? Whoopsie!"

Dan rolled his eyes to cover up the awkwardness brought on by the accidental innuendo, and wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt at warming himself.

"Well, okay, nothing new there, but _**why**_ do you want to be me? I thought we moved **past** this! You 're supposed to be living a happy life in Florida or something, aren't you? What happened to that?"

The grin his impostor had been wearing fell so abruptly, the change was almost jarring.

"What, happened to that? I don't know, Dan, let me see, what could have happened, to that? Oh, that's right!"

Another lightning flash and now, the man that had been standing two yards away, was now standing right in front of him, and Dan felt as if he might need a new pair of underwear.

" _ **You happened**_!"

Dan was shoved with a force stronger than should have been possible, and he found himself bouncing painfully off the dumpster, landing on his hands and knees. He looked up at the sneering face of his attacker with a pout.

"You pushed me..." Dan muttered, disbelievingly.

This either went unheard or ignored as his clone continued.

"Y'know, Dan, I thought I knew all of your little secrets, but one thing I never counted on was just how widely spread your horrendous reputation really was. You really get around, don't you, you terrible, _awful_ little man?"

"What are you even _talking_ about? I never--"

"You've been to Florida, I know that much. Go on! Guess how I know!"

"Um …"

"Because they certainly know **you** there, Dan! Oh boy do they know you!" This was said with a chuckle, through a gritted-teeth smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. "I happened to run into some lovely people who remembered you pretty well, in fact! They took one look at my face … and then proceeded to bash it in with their baseball bats. Because _**they**_ thought I, was you! Isn't that just the funniest thing?"

"Not really..." Dan muttered, vaguely recalling his trip to Florida involving an angry mob and a court ordered ban. "Yeah I probably should have mentioned we're banned from that state. Also Ohio, Denver, probably all of Canada..." 

" _ **You think so?!**_ " His doppelganger shouted, grabbing a fistful of Dan's shirt and lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. The face he was brought to this time was truly a nightmare. The man no longer looked like Dan, or any living person, as the left side of his skull had been caved in, crimson blood still pouring from it, glimmering like a macabre waterfall in the scarce moonlight. One eye socket was completely empty, the other bulged out, blind and looking as if it might pop at any moment. Only a few teeth remained in the ruined mouth below.

" _ **Look! Look what they did to me! Because of you**_!"

"I'd-- I'd rather not, actually, that's, really disgusting, I think I might barf." Dan turned his face away to keep the bile from rising up. "But that's what I'm _talking_ about! **Why** do you want to be me when you know I'm so disliked? My bad reputation goes along with the rest of the package, you know." Dan glanced back to find the face was back to what it had always been, the gore was gone, much to his relief.

"Revenge, Dan, you of all people should understand that. I lost my life because of you … and now I'm taking yours as compensation. Nothing personal! Oh wait. No, no … this is as personal as it gets, isn't it! My mistake, don't I feel silly. _Oh, but I'm going to enjoy this_."

Dan shut his eyes tightly and winced, readying himself for what was to come. But whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't for his assailant to scream, and then to be dropped to the ground. He opened his eyes to see his attacker struggling against what appeared to be rope-like bindings made from some kind of blue energy. And behind that …

"Chris!" Dan grinned, jumping to his feet. "It's about time, I was almost just _possessed_ , I think!"

"Hey Dan … ah. So that **is** a ghost I see there, that's cool, great."

"Poltergeist, actually, and you're welcome, Dan." Elise, who was currently struggling to hold the gun-like weapon that held the thing captive still, replied sarcastically.

"Yeah! After I took you home, Elise ran some tests on that electrical current her little machine detected, and concluded you had a poltergeist problem, somehow." Chris replied with a shrug and an incredulous look.

"So we hurried over to your place, but uh. Did you blow it up?" Elise added.

"Lightning."

"Ah. Right."

"But how did you guys _find me_ , then?" Dan questioned. The pelting rain had slowed to a light drizzle by now, but thunder still rolled across the dark sky every now and then.

"Oh, we just followed Mr. Mumbles." Chris smiled, and Dan gasped as his cat stepped out from behind his friend's leg, and jumped into Dan's arms, purring.

"Mr. Mumbles! I knew you wouldn't let me down. Who's a good kitty? It's you, did you know that? It is!"

"Oh well isn't that, cute. I hate to interrupt this touching little reunion, I really do!" The three of them turned their attention to the poltergeist still hung suspended in its glowing blue constraints. "But Dan and I were, kind of in the middle of something-- Chris, Elise, _hel-lo_! **How** have you two been, it's been way, too, long since we had a chat."

Chris and Elise exchanged confused and suspicious glances.

"Chris, I am _loving_ that new haircut. It suits you!"

Chris smiled sheepishly, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair and glancing away. "You like it, really? I didn't think anyone noticed..."

Chris caught the sharp glare Elise was giving him, and forced his expression back into a frown. Right, this guy was the enemy.

"Yes, really! _Oh and Elise_! This contraption, so well made! So effective! So clever!" The poltergeist tapped a finger against one of the beams, wincing slightly as it sizzled, but his friendly grin never wavered. " _Tell the truuuth_ … did you make this yourself?"

Elise was the one smiling now, and she gave a weak shrug.

"Well, I might have made a few minor … major … alterations to it, you know..." Her smile slipped when she noticed Chris giving her a look. " _What?_ " She hissed at her husband before turning her glare back onto its intended target.

"I thought maybe! Elise, always so modest, now look. I understand you two wanting to protect your friend, honest to goodness I do! But here's the situation you see, _Dan_ here is directly responsible for my untimely death, _it's really a funny story, I'll tell you guys later_ "

" **Indirectly**! And it isn't funny! Man, you've **really** got a messed up sense of humor, pal." Dan spoke up from behind and was completely ignored.

"So anyway, I figured, it's only _fair_ that Dan gives me **his** life as compensation. See where I'm coming from here, work with me."

"Mmm... seems fair to me." Elise muttered with a half-shrug.

"Elise, come on!" Chris whined, and the heartbroken, pleading look he was giving her made her regret it.

"Alright, I was kidding, sheesh! Dan, you can't have Dan. Chris isn't finished with him yet."

"Yeah! Wait, what, could you rephrase that--" Chris chimed in.

"Now Dan, listen very closely--" Elise noticed both Dans watching her. "The real, _alive _Dan, I mean. I need you to run. As fast as you can, faster if possible."__

__"Run? You've got a machine that can trap ghosts, and your plan is to _run_?" Dan retorted._ _

__"Yes! Look, we've got the binding incantation, and the ceremonial beads, but we haven't gotten a vessel to bind him to yet... it was short notice, okay!"_ _

__"Yeah, we're winning a bid for one on Upay, but it takes awhile..." Chris added, looking at his phone screen._ _

__" **You staked my life and safety on _Upay_**!" Dan shouted angrily. "I swear, I need better friends." He mumbled, but did as he was told and took off running._ _

__The impostor glared and sneered as he watched Dan escape, but this quickly faded as he turned back toward Elise with a smile. "Elise, real quick, is this thing battery-powered, by any chance?"_ _

__"Um..." Caught off guard, Elise's eyes shifted down to the charge meter on the back of the gun. It read a little less than half. She shifted her eyes back up at him. "Mmmaybe? Why?"_ _

__"Just checking!" The poltergeist chuckled, and then appeared to swell, his chuckling growing until it was a full on cackle, even as the constraints fizzled and buzzed against his growing form._ _

__"Uhh! What's he doing, what's happening!" Chris shouted over the cackling, and Elise realized her mistake with a heavy dread as she watched the charge meter drain rapidly._ _

__"Poltergeists have the ability to drain battery life, Chris. I think we should run."_ _

__Elise dropped the gun just as the energy holding the poltergeist popped and fizzled out, freeing him. Both Chris and Elise took a few steps back when he turned to face them._ _

__"Thanks a bunch for the boost, Elise, you're a sweetheart. We'll catch up later, I promise!" He tipped her a wink before vanishing in a flash of lingering lightning, leaving Chris and Elise standing in the alleyway alone._ _

__"Um …" It was Chris who spoke up first. "Am I reading the situation wrong, or was that bad? That was bad, wasn't it?"_ _

__Elise bent to pick up the drained gun._ _

__"Oh yeah. This is _pretty_ bad." __


	7. Dan VS Death

“All this running I’ve been doing lately _can’t_ be good for me, Mr. Mumbles.” Dan panted, slowing to a stop and leaning against a nearby wall for support. The cat hopped down from his arms and mewled up at him, worriedly. Or, at least it seemed that way, when in reality, she was simply informing him she was hungry.

“Tired, Dan?”

“Oh no, not you again...” Dan whined, pressing his back up against the wall, eyes darting around looking for the poltergeist.

“It’s alright. I’ll be happy to ...”

With dawning dread, Dan pinpointed where the voice was coming from, and tilted his head back to look up, his blood freezing in his veins when he saw his impostor clinging to the side of the building like some horribly deformed spider.

“take over for awhile!” Dan screamed as the thing pounced, and then everything went dark.

He opened his eyes, and it was still dark. He was laying on his back, in what felt like about five inches of water, but at least it was warmer here.

“Uhhg, my aching head...” Dan muttered as he sat up, bringing a hand up to rest against his forehead. “ _Now_ where am I?”

“Welcome back to your subconscious, Dan!”

Dan flinched and grit his teeth when he saw his impostor was squatting right next to him, arms resting comfortably on bent knees. He _winced_ when he felt a hand on his back. He didn’t relax even as it began to gently rub.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright! You can relax now! It’s almost over, you’ll be able to rest soon, won’t that be nice?”

“I _am_ pretty tired...” Dan mumbled back, shivering when the hand trailed upward, fingertips skating across the back of his neck, then combing through his hair.

“Thaaat’s right, that’s a good boy.”

The fingers splayed out over the back of Dan’s head suddenly tightened, painfully yanking a fistful of his hair along with it.

“ _ **OW**_! You **JERK**!”

But that was as far as his complaint was allowed to go, as he was shoved forward then, his face plummeting into the suffocating water beneath them. He could feel the cold breath against his ear as he struggled frantically to free himself, and he didn’t need to smell it to know it was rotten.

“ _You’d better get used to the void, Dan, because you’re going to be living in it for a very, very, long time._ ”

__________

When Chris and Elise came to Dan’s unconscious body, thanks once again to Mr. Mumbles leading the way, it was convulsing on the pavement as if he were in the middle of a violent seizure.

“Oh that can’t be good...” Chris shook his head upon seeing his best friend writhing on the ground. “He’s possessed, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know, probably, hand me your phone.” Elise replied, casually, holding a hand out, expectantly. Chris did as he was asked, laying his phone into her outstretched palm.

“What for?” But he got his answer as he watched her connect it to the gun with a cable.

“I need its charge. Hopefully it’ll be enough.” It was enough to power the gun, anyway, as the interface lit up. Elise took aim.

“Is that even going to _work_ now that he’s already inside?” Chris asked, anxiety evident in his voice.

“We’re about to find out, here goes nothing.”

____

This wasn’t water he was drowning in, and that quickly became evident. It didn’t burn the way water should have as it breached his lungs, but instead filled him with a terrifying array of emotions. Every emotion he’d ever repressed, all at once, cranked up to eleven. He wanted to wail, he wanted to scream, he wanted to laugh, he felt as if his brain was being electrocuted, and it was too much. It was overwhelming. It was torture.

Just when he thought for sure he couldn’t take any more of this, he was yanked back, gasping loudly for air as soon as he was free of that awful substance. The fist holding his hair pulled back, forcing him to look up at what was once a black void. Now, however, what appeared to be blue lightning webbed across the sky, spreading like searching tendrils.

“See that, Dan? They’re coming to take me away! But I’ve got a better idea.” Dan was hauled to his feet as they both stood, too tired to fight back as his clone manhandled him as if he was a stuffed toy.

“How about I stay ... and you go!” Dan was shoved forward, just as four of the blinding blue tendrils shot downward, and he screamed as they wrapped themselves around him, and rapidly began pulling him upwards. They burned and sizzled against his metaphorical skin, and as he reached the surface, he felt as if something vital was being brutally ripped from him as he was pulled through.

____

The gun certainly pulled _something_ out. A screaming mass of energy rose up within the gun’s beam, and Dan’s body ceased its spasming, just as the battery gave out. To their surprise and confusion, the poltergeist seemed to explode and dissipate along with the beam.

“Problem solved?” Elise said, warily, with a shrug.

“Let’s hope so...” Chris replied, and knelt down, placing a hand on Dan’s shoulder and shaking him gently. “Dan? Are you in there, buddy? It’s me, Chris.”

Dan’s eyes opened, and he gasped for air. He sat up slowly, with the help of his best friend, and began to cough.

“Chris? Elise? ... Mr. Mumbles? Is that you?”

“It’s us, Dan. How do you feel? Is he ... gone?” Elise asked. Dan rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“I think so. My head’s killing me though--”

Dan was sudden crushed within a warm hug as Chris threw his arms around him. Chris froze and stiffened in surprise and worry when he felt Dan hugging him back.

“Dan? You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“No.” Dan sniffled, letting go and pulling back. “I said the poltergeist is gone, I didn’t say I was _feeling well_. I’m cold, I’m tired, and I feel like I was run over by a truck.”

Ah, there was the Dan Chris knew. He smiled and stood, holding out a hand to help his best buddy up, which Dan gladly accepted.

“That’s understandable, buddy. Come on, you can stay with us until your place gets fixed.”

“Really?” Dan asked, hopefully.

“Really?” Elise asked, deadpan and unimpressed. Chris gave her another pathetic, pleading look. “I mean, yeah really, come on Dan, our home is your home.” Her tone was laced with tired sarcasm that seemingly went ignored. Dan purposely leaned against Chris as they made the walk back to the car that would take them home.

“Thanks, guys, really. You’re the best.”

“Uh, Dan, did you hit your head back there?”

“I might have.”

Meanwhile, the real Dan, now no more than a misplaced spirit, watched the four of them walk away with the wrong Dan. Dan spoke one word as they disappeared over the bend, his voice meek and broken, drowned out by the lingering thunder in the distance.

“Chris...?”


	8. Dan VS The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, and it's a long one, folks.

Dan was fuming. He’d had no other choice but to follow them back to Chris’ place. He’d watched his impostor sleeping peacefully in his body all night, and now he was spending the morning watching this creep parade around in his body, wearing a frilly pink apron as he baked a loaf of banana bread.

“I would _**never**_ do that! They’re **going** to notice, you know. You’re not even _trying_ to act like me!”

But Dan knew he was shouting to the wind, no one could hear him, no one could see him.

“Give! Me! My! Body back you _**cretin**_!” Dan shouted, swiping at the impostor inside his body, his arms going right through him. Dan growled in infuriated frustration, but that soon turned into a choked gasp as his body turned to face him, a cool smile on his face, eyes locked directly onto his own.

“ _I don’t, want to_!” The fake replied, in a sing-song tone that just sounded _wrong_ in Dan’s voice.

“You can hear me!” Dan sputtered. “You can _see_ me!”

“Of course I can, Dan. We’re linked now, you and I!” Dan winced as he sang, “Forever, and for al-ways!” And did a spin before reaching down to open the oven door.

“Stop _**doing**_ that! I don’t **do** that!”

But he was ignored, as the intruder continued to cheerfully hum to himself, taking the pan out of the oven and placing it on the counter. Dan attempted to swipe it off onto the floor, but as expected, just phased right through it instead.

“Why couldn’t _they_ see me? Chris and Elise? They could see **you**!”

“That would be because I, am a _poltergeist_ , and you, are just a _ghost_. I’m more powerful! Simple as that.”

“ _Ohh, I’m more powerfeh neh-neh-neh-neh-neh-neh-nyah_. _**Well pal, you can shove it!**_ ”

This contest of wit and banter was put on hold as the front door opened, and Chris strolled into the kitchen, wearing a rather pleased smile.

“Mmm, something smells good! Oh, hi, Dan.” Chris sat down at the kitchen table, as if it was his instinct to do so.

“Hiya, Chris! I hope you’re hungry, I made you a banana bread.” Dan placed the entire pan in front of Chris, and placed a fork beside it.

“You did...? Huh. You did!” Chris gladly took up the fork, ready to dig in, but suddenly he paused, brows furrowed. “Wait. Is this poisoned?” He turned his suspicious gaze from the loaf up to Dan.

The room fell silent as Chris and Dan stared at each other. Dan watched Chris, carefully, assessing the current mood and situation. Finally, Dan smiled toothily, cocked his head to the side, and shrugged.

“Probably! I’m quirky and unpredictable.” Dan then turned to put the apron and oven mitts away, and Chris squinted at him, stuffing a forkful of bread into his mouth, chewing slowly.

“ _Hmmm--oh!_ Oh this is pretty good! I don’t care if it _is_ poisoned.”

Somewhere nearby, although unheard, a ghost was screaming in frustration.

_______

Chris watched out the passenger side window as he chewed on another hunk of beef jerky happily. He and Dan had just left a jerky convention, and not only had Dan agreed to go with him, he’d offered to drive **and** paid for the snacks. That had been so nice that Chris had found it easy to shove down his doubt and suspicions about how very un-Dan all of that had been.

“Oh hey look, geese!” Chris said through a mouthful of jerky, pointing above them at a flock of geese.

“Well would you look at that!” Dan replied with a grin. “They must be getting a head start this ye-”

**splat**

A wad of goose poop splattered against the windshield. Chris froze in mild panic, eyes shifting over to Dan. A bird just defecated on his car. He was bound to explode.

“This year.” Dan finished, calmly reaching over to turn of the windshield wipers. Chris swallowed his food and turned to face Dan. Just then, the windshield and what sounded like the roof of the car were pelted with a flurry of goose droppings, and Dan had to slam on the breaks due to not being able to see out of the front window anymore. Here we go, this was it.

To Chris’ horror, Dan ... _laughed_. It was short, but it sounded genuine, and that was all kinds of wrong.

“Isn’t that just life for you?” Dan shook his head, turning up the wiper speed and continuing on down the road.

“Life? Dan what are you talking about, aren’t you going to get out and yell angrily, maybe shake your fists at them a little?”

Dan glanced over at Chris, a surprised expression on his face. “At the geese?”

“Well, yeah. They just pooped all over your car, aren’t you going to add geese to your list or something?”

“Oh, that.” Dan was back to smiling. Chris wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to all the smiling. “No, I think that list is a thing of the past, Chris. Y’know, after almost dying, I kind of feel like maybe I should be more forgiving, a little bit nicer, even. I don’t know, it just feels right.”

The real Dan, although Chris had no way of knowing, had been leaning over the seats between them.

“Come on, say something, Chris! You _**know**_ that isn’t me, you **have to** after that!”

Dan watched with a sinking feeling as Chris’ suspicious frown turned up into a light smile, and he placed a hand on the driver’s shoulder.

“I think that’s great, Dan. Good for you.”

“Thanks, buddy. You’re the best friend a guy could ever hope for.”

“Yeah...you too.” Chris muttered, averting his attention back out the side window and nibbling on more jerky,

________

Elise knew something was bothering Chris when he shut their bedroom door and just stood in front of it in his pajamas, fiddling sheepishly with the cuffs of his sleeves like a toddler who’d just had a nightmare. She set her book aside and gave him a soft, reassuring smile.

“Chris? What’s up, big guy?”

“Elise, can we talk about something?”

“Of course! Come on over here and let’s have a good ol’ chat.” She replied, patting the bed beside her, invitingly. This at least got a smile out of him, and he crossed the room and climbed into bed.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Well ... it’s Dan.”

“Isn’t it always?” Elise frowned and rolled her eyes, but only briefly. “Go on.”

“Have you noticed he’s been acting ... weird?” He tore his eyes from the covers long enough to glance at her now, and she saw the worry etched into his expression.

“What, no! He’s been, surprisingly, pleasant, actually.”

“Yeah, see! That’s what I’m talking about, when has Dan ever been _pleasant_?”

Elise sighed. She knew where this was going. “You think he’s still possessed, don’t you?”

“No! I mean, maybe? I don’t know.” Chris sighed, shaking his head. “He said he’s making an effort to be nicer, I just... something feels _off_ , you know?”

“M-hm. Chris, I’m going to ask you a hypothetical, question. Let’s just say, Dan really _is_ still possessed ... would that be so bad? You’ve still got your best friend! He looks like Dan, he sounds like Dan, he even still sorta acts like Dan! He’s just a, slightly nicer Dan.”

“Yeah, but ...” Chris began fiddling with the edge of his blanket now, brows furrowed as he stared at the covers. “It’s been great, I won’t lie. Dan being nice to me is ... well, nice. But he wouldn’t be the Dan I survived summer camp with. Wouldn’t be the Dan who used to sneak me extra pudding cups at lunch, or the guy who blew up my bully’s locker, or the guy who I briefly experimented with in high school.”

“Excuse me, what was that last part?”

Chris’ eyes grew wide then, as he seemed to come out of whatever memory-lane trance he’d been in. His eyes darted over to her for a second before darting away again.

“What, last part, I don’t remember a last part.”

Elise took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh, gently grabbing Chris’ hand and giving him a warm smile.

“Chris, I get it. You and Dan have history! Memories. Any chance you’d be willing to make _new_ memories with a _new_ Dan?”

Chris’ frown deepened, and he seemed to wilt further into the bed. She rubbed the back of his hand.

“I’m kidding! I’ll help you figure out what’s going on with Dan, I promise.”

Chris perked up immediately, that smile she fell in love with returning. “Really? Aww, you’re the best, I love you.”

“I know.” She replied with a smirk, stretching up to place a smooch on his cheek. “Now get some rest, we’ll confront him tomorrow.”

_____

Dan, or rather the fake wearing Dan's skin, sat reclined comfortably back against the couch in Chris and Elise's living room. He sported a soft, contemplative expression as he gazed into the swirling steam of his hot cocoa mug. This was it, he knew what was coming, and he was confident he was ready for it.

"Chris, have I ever mentioned how much I love your hot cocoa?" His eyes slowly shifted up to Chris, who sat in the chair across the room with his own mug.

"Yes, actually, it's one of the only nice, genuine compliments you've ever given me."

"Is it?" Dan looked mildly surprised for a moment. "I should compliment you more. You deserve it."

"Yeah. Maybe..." Chris trailed off and glanced away. Dan being nice was still strange. It was pleasant, but still somehow unsettling in its surreality. They didn't need to stew in the awkward silence that had fallen between them for very long, as Elise walked in, carrying a cardboard box.

"Elise! Good, you're here. Now that you're both present, I … I have something I wanted to say." Dan leaned forward, and set his mug on the table, regarding both of them with a friendly smile. Dan and Elise shared a look, but said nothing.

"I wanted to say … thank you. You've taken me into your home, you've shown me warmth and kindness, shown me what it is to have real friends I can count on. I'd never known that feeling when I was alive, and even though I may not be the Dan you guys are used to, by darn if I'm not going to do my best to fill that Dan-shaped void. And then some!"

Chris gaped at not-Dan in disbelief.

"So you're _admitting_ you're not Dan? Just like that?"

"Of course! Who am I kidding, I'm not fooling anyone!" Dan chuckled. "Nor would I want to, I respect both of you too much to even try. Heck, I love you guys! And I look forward to spending the rest of my days letting you two know it."

"Yeah about that." Elise replied flatly, dropping the box onto the table. Dan's smile faltered and then vanished, his eyes fixed on the box before shifting up to face Elise silently. He sensed imminent danger here. He continued to watch in silence as she ben and began digging through the box.

"For the record, I happen to agree you're a better guy than Dan is." She pulled out a leather-bound book and set it on the table. "But, you're not a better Dan than Dan is. And my husband is pretty fond of Dan, for some bizarre reason." Next she pulled out what appeared to be a slightly deformed humanoid statue, likely made of clay, from the box, and set it next to the book. Dan's agitation and trepidation grew.

"And, if there's one thing I respect about Dan, it's his honesty. You never have to wonder where you stand with him, his honesty is brutal, and his compliments are genuine." She pulled out a colorful beaded necklace adorned with a metal pendant, and wrapped it around the clay statue. Oh. Oh no.

Dan shoved down his terror with a loud sigh and he stood, hanging his head and holding up both hands in front of him in a defeated gesture.

"Alright, I see what's happening here, and you're right. I've overstayed my welcome." He lifted his head to reveal a sad smile. "A gentleman knows when it's time to move on, so. I guess I'll be seeing you. Goodbye."

Chris and Elise watched as Dan made his way to the door.

"Chris, grab him, would you?"

"Oh! Right."

Dan's pace quickened to a panicked scurry as Chris stood, but he wasn't quick enough. Chris threw his arms around the much smaller man and hoisted him off the floor, spinning them both around to face Elise, who now had the book open in front of her.

"Ready when you are!" Chris replied. Dan kicked and struggled and growled, but it was in vain. His panic only worsened when Elise began reading from the book in a language unfamiliar to him. He could already feel the pull, although only barely noticeable now, like a toddler tugging on one's pantleg. His struggling efforts doubled.

" _This body is so **weak**_!" Dan growled in frustration … and then stopped struggling altogether, a sly grin spreading over his face.

Chris began to worry when he felt Dan go completely limp in his arms. He frowned and looked down at him in concern.

"...Dan?"

"You-hoo! Up here."

Chris looked up to see the poltergeist hovering inches from his face.

"Boo."

"Oh no."

Chris stumbled backwards as the thing entered him, dropping Dan's lifeless body to the floor in the process. This was enough to grab Elise's attention.

"Chris!"

Chris was giving her a look that made her feel ill, and she decided that was definitely not Chris.

"Hi, honey." The thing said in her husband's voice, in a tone that should have never come out of the man she loved. The Chris-thing lunged at her and she braced herself, holding the book out in front of her like a makeshift shield.

But the impact never came, and she noticed too late his target hadn't been her. She watched with sinking dread as he swiped the statue from the table, and hurled it at the wall. It shattered on impact, spraying debris across the rug.

"Much better!" Chris beamed. "Now this, I can work with!"

"Oh I'm sorry, _he's taken_."

Chris turned to see Elise pull out a familiar gun from the box and aim it at him. He dove behind the chair just in time to avoid the shot.

"Get out here and fight like a man, Chris!" Elise demanded, readying herself and aiming at the chair.

"I'd rather not, actually." Came Chris' voice from behind it. Elise frowned and she stepped forward, gripping the side of the chair and shoving it over with little effort to reveal her cowering husband … or at least the thing masquerading as her husband.

The hand that shot out and grabbed her ankle caught her off guard, and she fell back as it was yanked out from under her, slamming the back of her head against the floor on impact. She was distantly aware of the gun being ripped from her grasp through the shooting, dizzying pain.

Seeing her like that was enough to allow Chris to break through momentarily, a look of utter panic and fear briefly replacing the look of deranged determination.

"Elise! I'm so sorry!" He tossed away the gun without a second thought, and extended a hand to help her up. The look he received spelled cold murder, and she grabbed the offered arm with a steel grip.

"You, are going to regret that."

The foot to his stomach knocked the wind out of him and he was flipped and thrown across the room, colliding with his back against the wall, bouncing off of it and landing spread eagle on the floor. He recovered and pulled himself to his feet just in time to see her charging at him again.

"Elise, honey, it's me!" Chris cried. She didn't slow.

" _ **Is it**_?!" she growled through clenched teeth, and he stumbled out of the way, her fist making contact with the wall just behind where his face had just been moments before, denting and cracking the drywall.

Aching and dizzy from adrenalin and panic, the Chris-puppet clumsily scurried toward the kitchen, and Elise froze in her pursuit when he turned around to face her, wielding a rather large kitchen knife. She eyed it, warily, afraid to make another move, unsure what he planned to do with it.

"Y'know … Elise …" The Chris-thing began, still attempting to catch his breath. "I was hoping that I'd be able to keep you and Chris around in my brand new life. But plans change! Murder-suicides are tragic, but they happen all the time. Such a shame."

Hearing those words come out of Chris' mouth gripped her heart in a frigid vice and turned her blood to ice. She felt sick.

"Chris... I know you're in there, honey …" Her voice shook and cracked and she silently scolded herself for it. "Put the knife down, Chris … please..."

"Gladly!" Chris chuckled, grinning and bringing the knife up in both fists, its blade pointed at himself, and she realized with dawning terror he planned on plummeting it into her husband's gut.

" **HEY, _JERK_**!"

Chris and Elise turned to see Dan standing in the doorway, the ceremonial beads looped around his neck, the open book in one hand, the gun in the other. His teeth were bared in a dangerously mischievous grin.

"Oh, please!" The Chris-puppet chuckled. " _You're_ going to be the vessel? I've _been there_ , I've **done** that. You couldn't handle me before, what makes you think it'll be any different now?"

"Well, for starters, it says here that any spirit bound by this binding ritual is rendered powerless." Dan replied simply and smugly. He closed the book and aimed the gun at him, not hesitating one moment longer in squeezing the trigger. "So stay still for a minute, if you don't mind."

The poltergeist made a guttural sound as the beam tore him from Chris' body, said body slumping to the floor beneath him. Dan tossed the book over to Elise.

"Make yourself useful and recite the spell, would ya?" A pause, a smile. " _Please_. See, I'm learning."

Elise glared, but opened the book, regardless. "You do know this is incredibly risky and has the potential to go horribly, horribly wrong, don't you?"

"Yeah, so, what else is new." Dan shrugged lazily.

"Alright." Elise shrugged back and began to read. The entire house began to shake and rumble, wind from seemingly nowhere began to whip around the kitchen, steadily rising in thunderous volume.

"No … no! **You can't do this to me**! I don't **_want_** to go back there!" The poltergeist wailed as his form began to distort, being pulled toward Dan.

"Too bad!" Dan yelled over the howling winds, easing off the trigger and dropping the gun to the floor, no longer in need of it. " _ **You wanted to be Dan, now you'll be Dan forever! In my subconscious with the rest of the bad memories! Now who's more powerful, huh!**_ "

" _ **YOU'LL REGRET THIS**_!"

" _ **Probably**_!"  
______

"So, that's it?" Chris asked. He and Dan sat on the front steps, watching the sun disappear over the horizon. "You just have a ghost living in your brain now?"

"I guess so." Dan shrugged. "Sharing my body with another guy feels _different_ than I imagined it would, somehow."

"Uh, right. Hey that reminds me, Dan, um. So when he possessed me, I kind of knew everything he did for awhile, and I. …"

Chris fell silent for awhile, and Dan made no attempt at filling or interrupting that silence. Silence was better, sometimes.

"Is there anything you wanna talk about, Dan? In relation me, and you, and possibly unspoken feelings you may or may not have?"

And Chris had to go and ruin the silence, didn't he.

"Oh, _that_ whole mess." Dan replied tiredly, rolling his eyes and waving a hand dismissively. "Well, we _could_ sit here and unpack all of that. **Or** , we could hurry down to Burgerphile before they close, and begin the long, arduous task of forgetting any of this ever happened by eating ourselves into a food coma."

He grinned up at Chris, hopefully, and Chris grinned right back down at him, the mention of food lifting his mood instantly.

"Yeah, or we could do that!" Chris exclaimed, enthusiastically.

"I thought so. Alright, let's go, you're driving. And paying." Dan stood and headed toward Chris' car.

"Of course." Chris sighed, and followed after.


End file.
